


Please?

by coveredbyroses



Series: 2019 SPN Kink Bingo [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Begging, Dom/sub, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:49:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21673453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredbyroses/pseuds/coveredbyroses
Summary: Dean likes to hear you beg.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/You
Series: 2019 SPN Kink Bingo [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1257542
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	Please?

“Please!” Your voice is a raw scrape as you peer up at him from underneath the fan of your eyelashes. You’re shaking with an exquisite blend of primal need and pain as the hard floor aches into your bare knees, as your arms burn with their stretch. Your fingernails bite into your slick palms behind your back, and your cunt feels like melted butter underneath the steady hum of the wand nestled up against it.

“More,” Dean says, and it sends a little spark of fury feathering up your spine. It’s been _hours_ and you - you just… God. You need it, you need him.

“Please, Sir,” you whimper. “I need you.”

“What do you need?”

“You.”

He smirks, glances down at his own thick cock jutting out from the crumpled V of his jeans, then swings spruce green eyes to yours. “I think ya can do better than that.”

A sugary heat blooms fresh in your belly. “I need your cock. Please, Sir. Please.”

He grins. “Then you’d better come for me.”

Your hips surge at his words, pumping and rolling in search for just a _little_ more friction. The adhesive of the black tape wound around your thigh pulls and itches, but keeps the device snug and secure despite all your undulating.

“Atta girl,” Dean praises, shuffles a little closer, and god, his dick’s right _there. _You think you can get your mouth on him if you stretch your neck out _just_ a tic - but you don’t dare. You don’t have permission, not until you come - you just need to fucking _come_. You’re almost numb between the legs now, but so slippery-hot, the heat curling up and flickering through your veins.

“Come on, slut,” Dean rumbles. “Give me a nice…” He wraps thick fingers around the root of his shaft. “Big…” He starts to pump. “Orgasm. Do that, and I’ll stuff that pretty mouth _full_.”

Everything goes white in one thundering explosion, muscles locked and rigid as wave after wave of electric heat rolls through you.

“Good girl,” Dean gleams once the sound of your own blood dims back to quiet, then presses the velvety head of his dick against your lips.


End file.
